


Just Give It Time

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: "friendship", Alley Blow Jobs, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coming Untouched, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, LMAO, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, One Night Stands, Original Percival Graves & Theseus Scamander Friendship, Original Percival Graves Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porno quality logic, Soulmates, Theseus Scamander was originally cast as Chris Evans, and i cannot control my own characters apparently, lets be honest with ourselves ok, tattoo artist Credence Barebone, that turn into more, there is a tiny bit of daddy kink because theo's a lil shit, warning: this is a repost you are not having deja vu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-02-09 17:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12892842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: “What was it before?”Percival was caressing the tattoo, fingers tracing the moving and swirling lines, petting the lion as best he could, and Credence shivered under his hand, which he let slip down, the ridges and bumps of the boy’s spine somewhat defined beneath his almost translucent skin.“A lamb.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi its me your problematic fave, re-posting a fic i deleted in a fit of madness back in june.  
> the facts are thusly:  
> i posted this super quickly and it was barely edited, with many plot holes [for a pwp who cares lmao i know] and typos and just... it was bad okay?  
> i felt super guilty about it immediately afterward because i'd commissioned art for it and all that jazz.  
> so anyway im back on my bullshit and here's a thing for yall because i guess you deserve a thing from me thats of semi decent readable quality.  
> it's still very hmmm but at least its not a garbage fire of typos.  
> i spent a painful 2 hrs shaping it back into something somewhat decent.  
> apologies on behalf of anyone who read the original posting.
> 
> feel free to check out the art here, its much better than the fic lbr:  
> http://maxkennedy24.tumblr.com/post/162598549307

Everything had always been clear, colorful, and Credence suspected it had a lot to do with magic.

From how he saw the world through different eyes.

He leaned down to pet his cat Scurry, right behind their ears, finding it just as soothing to caress the soft fur as the creature itself likely enjoyed the attention.

After a few moments while lost in thought, his hand stilled, and Credence felt rather than saw someone walk by, but they must not have stopped, maybe they didn’t even to notice the sign which read _‘magical tattoos.’_

But irregardless, he had such a strong reaction that it reminded him of an old saying from his childhood, like someone had walked over his grave. He shook himself, wondering if he should send a query to Newt, asking him if there were any known ghosts in the city who might have been intrigued enough to check out his little boring drab tattoo shop.

Most time nomaj’s thought it was simply a gimmick and didn’t seem to care about it more than any other shop in the city. But for magical folk, the tattoos were really something special. Moving and animated with whatever color they desired, it was an art.

They took talent that not everyone possessed.

As it turned out, Credence simply had a natural instinct for it, so after Ilvermorny, he’d set up shop in his old hometown which had blossomed into a city that never slept.

Churches were being replaced with banks or sex shops, and he couldn’t be happier.

As a child, he had experienced many bad things at the hand of religion. Even thought he might die at the hand of his vindictive guardian a few times, but been very lucky to escape his foster home before it became too dangerous for him, even as a wizard.

Scurry hopped into his lap, startling him a bit, until Credence found himself caught staring, realizing he could see bits of blue in with the black of their fur.

“Wow. No wonder you like to sit in the sun. It brings out your highlights.”

His cat merely purred, nuzzling their face into his palm, and he found himself smiling at them, letting his hand drag down through the thicker silky fur over their back. A gentle purring hum filled the heavy silence in the shop.

 

When it came time to break for lunch, Credence knew exactly where he would go. His best friend in the whole world, Newt Scamander, was currently bunking across the street from an amazing café, and it was one Credence had been meaning to check out for months.

He walked out of his shop, carefully locking it and waving goodbye to Scurry, and disapparating in the closest alleyway to land right beside the café.

It had a powerful charm surrounding it to prevent nomaj’s from accidentally wandering in, and he beamed when he caught sight of Newt already inside.

“Starting without me eh?”

Newt gave him an answering grin, while pushing back some wild red strands from his forehead, and then reaching over to clap him on the back,

“Been a long day at the zoo, what can I say? I watched the occamy’s eating and decided I’d grab something myself. Have you met Queenie?”

Credence was used to his friend talking a mile a minute, Newt had always been like that, ever since they’d met during his exchange year, the final for him at Ilvermorny, and it was what had made him fall in love in the first place.

Now it was more like something that he realized was just the way _Newt_ was, no matter who he was with. His silly little crush had faded the second he heard his friend talking about some pretty brunette two grades above him. It had been easy to move on, simply because he couldn’t stay angry at Newt, it wasn’t _his_ fault he was so effortlessly charming.

“I’ve never been here before Newt, so no, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“She’s our waitress. Actually she’s everyone’s, cause she owns the café.”

Credence glanced over to the counter to see a woman with golden curls that just barely grazed below her jaw, and a smile that seemed to outshine the sun.

“She looks nice.”

“She is. She’s married though.”

Credence blinked, and looked over at the red haired man,

“You already tried to hit on your waitress? Bad form. Shame on you.”

“I couldn’t help it. She was just so sweet. But I think it was all in my head… I mean literally. She can read minds.”

Credence gulped, and double checked his shield, and found it still in place. Usually he didn’t have to worry about things like that, but he was working on a book of designs, and he didn’t want anyone getting any ideas, or borrowing any of his.

“You know, your eyes are more green than hazel.”

Credence blurted suddenly, trying to find a way to mask his panic, and finding himself making strange conversation instead.

Newt reached a hand up to rub his cheek absentmindedly and smiled,

“Are they? Thanks.”

“Sorry. It’s been a slow morning. No one came by. I don’t have any appointments until Friday.”

“What are _you_ apologizing for? That’s rough. I wish I had someone to send you, but my assistant Jacob says he doesn’t want anything to mar his skin besides the tattoo he got before joining the army.”

“Tough break. But he’s back safe, so that’s what matters.”

Newt looked thoughtful,

“Although, there is my brother. Theseus. He’s coming over to stay with me through Thanksgiving, before he starts his, uh, road trip tour of America. He’s ridiculous. Think’s he’s going to cross the country in a week, then fly to Hawaii and bake in the sun for the rest of his gap year.”

Credence blinked, then nodded,

“You said he’s going to be a history professor, right? They let you take gap years when you’re getting a teaching degree?”

Newt snorted,

“No one argues with the ‘ _war hero_ ’ Scamander. He’s ridiculous. But I know he’s got one tattoo, and he’s probably already planning his third. Here, shoot him a text. See if you can’t make him an appointment next week.”

In recent years, mingling with nomaj’s had become less, well, forbidden, but still discouraged, and joining to help their wars was the biggest change. So Newt’s brother and his assistant had both served in the same war, side by side. While Credence thought them both very brave, as he couldn’t imagine volunteering for such a thing, even if most nomaj weapons were hardly a match for a properly powered shield charm.

Obviously a wizard or witch in battle could change things overnight, so they were only able to use defensive charms, otherwise they relented to using nomaj weapons.

 

* * *

  


Percival drank his coffee black, with three sugars, and rarely deviated from his usual trip to the post office before work, sending off a raven to his best friend, but instead of taking the usual shortcut over fifth and seventh, he decided to turn left, and walk down Summit avenue.

The shops over there were quiet and quaint, and even some with the brightest signs were silent, merely proclaiming their wares in unique scripts.

Percival couldn’t help a smile at the little tattoo parlor he saw, even if the sight of it and passing it made him feel like he had a wicked spot of indigestion. He couldn’t help wondering why anyone would bother with such a thing, when there was a place in the heart of London that sold things of the like that were temporary and even edible.

It was all fanciful, and something he’d likely not consider, especially being in his line of work. Director of Magical Security sounded important, though up until recently, it had been one of the dullest things in the world, next to being president he supposed. It was very responsible, and with all of that came certain obligations and personal standards. Though some nights he’d actually considered getting an earring, or maybe a small tattoo nearly an ankle, something that would go unnoticed unless he was… in bed with someone.

Percival sighed, and tossed his empty cup aside, before stepping into an alleyway and apparating away, landing right outside MACUSA, ignored Abernathy calling good morning to him, the kiss-ass up to his usual tricks, and continued on to the elevator, selecting the President’s office level. “Percy. You forgot my coffee.”

He smiled tightly, taking in Sera’s wry grin aimed right back at him, and the way she crossed her arms over her chest, as if she thought that would distract him, make him fall into her little trap.

“I’m not your secretary, I’m your right hand. Good try though.”

“Theseus Scamander.”

“What about him?”

Percival tried to ignore the little somersault his heart gave at that bit of news, and he clamped down on the memories bursting at the seams.

Flashes of green, red, and a distinctly smoke and liquor flavored kiss.

“He’s coming to New York in three days. I want you to go welcome him, and take this with you.” Sera handed him a thick manilla folder, and Percival only had to glance at the seal to know what it was about. “You’re replacing me.”

Sera didn’t blink, though he stared her down.

“I’m telling you to go interview your potential replacement. We both know you haven’t been the same since-”

Percival slapped his hand onto her desk, eyes squeezed shut tight,

“Do _not_ say his name to me. Not after what I’ve done for you.”

“I’m not ungrateful Percy. But you need a break. Not retirement. Not yet. Just… some time off. I can’t operate without a right hand. You know this. He’s a very decent candidate. People like him, just like-”

“ _They liked me before_? Yeah. I fucking know. Thank you Sera.”

Percival picked up the folder and turned to go, pausing in the doorway, only to see her nod. Every step he took echoed twice as loud as it should have, and he thought he might be sick. How had his day managed to go to shit so quickly, all from one reminder from the past?

The only good thing about it, would be getting to see Theseus again, he supposed, even if it was only in a professional context.

Percival flipped through the folder during lunch, and stopped only when his eyes started to sting. His friend had accomplished so much in half the time he had, no wonder Sera thought he was perfect material to step in for him. _He_ would have hired Theseus in a heartbeat if it was his choice, but of course, that might have been a conflict of interest.

When it was time for Percival to go home, he walked back into his brownstone to find a raven tapping on his kitchen window, and once again, something constricted in his chest.

The message was from Theseus.

He waited to read the message until he’d finished three fingers of whiskey, so he could blame the shakiness of his hands on the alcohol instead of his inner turmoil.

 

_‘Hey Perce, long time no chat._

_I heard about all that shit. I hope you know even if the delegation doesn’t trust what you said, under oath means fuck all these days, I guess._

_Believe me, I will always take your word over some madman. I hope we can grab drinks when I get into Manhattan next week. I don’t need to babysit my little brother anymore._

_Sincerely,-T.S.’_

 

Percival was left holding the letter, dangling from one hand as he took another sip, and exhaled slowly. It pained him, with how much he still cared about his friends’ opinion, even if the man held no sway in the world of magical politics. Not yet, at least. ‘Drinks’ could mean anything. Although with Theseus, it usually would include hours of reminiscing even without the promise of a goodnight kiss, or drunken fumble in a dark alleyway.

Percival groaned aloud, hating himself for letting his thoughts go that way, for being so predictable, so eager to return to the past, to cling to what was easy.

But goddamn if he didn’t have a skip in his step the next morning on the way to the post office _that_ time, and throughout the next few days, until it was the night before, and Percival found himself drinking just to sleep, Friday night or not.

Percival slept till noon, coming to with a headache and sore sides from the way he’d passed out on his couch. The hot water pounded against his forehead, helping soothe the pain just a little, as he opened his mouth, allowing some of it to land in his mouth, slipping down his parched throat. When he leaned forward, pressing his cheek against the still cold tiles, now the water could glide down his back, tickling over his skin, dripping down between his legs.

It was tempting, very much so, to just use his free hand to jerk off, but he didn’t want to show up to meet Theseus, glowing and riding some endorphin high from an orgasm, much as it would also serve to relax him. The meeting was originally for work, so he needed to be sharp, to be on his best behaviour.

That didn’t stop him from picturing Theseus right there, beside him, as he dried off, wondering what might happen. He’d probably insist on going back to bed, and just make breakfast around an early dinner time. Percival smiled faintly to himself, and sent his towel to the rack to dry, before walking into his closet.

 

* * *

 

 

Credence found himself talking to Scurry, his nerves alight for when Newt’s brother would stop by, as he’d written back right before he boarded the ship bound for the coast.

“A war hero? Here, in _my_ shop. Do you think he’ll like it? Will he think I booked him for the whole day and refused other customers? Is that bad?”

A solitary meow with a lazy blink was all Credence received for his babbling, and he knew, deep down, it really wasn’t something to worry about. If Theseus was anything like his little brother, he’d be perfectly charming, and polite, even if he despised everything about the shop from the window front to the chair design Credence had chosen.

He had his full palette prepared, as well as an older book of sketches, though he had marked a few he thought a former soldier might like, as well as a practical couple of designs for a future educator. Easily hidden by long sleeves, or somewhere that would only show when at the poolside or a beachfront.

Credence himself had only one tattoo at the moment, because he was very picky about what he put on his skin, and hadn’t yet found a second design that really grabbed his attention enough to commit for the long term.

Between his shoulder blades was a sleeping lamb in white and silver, which could morph into a red and gold lion, if he concentrated, or his mood changed rapidly. It was one of his favorite things he’d ever created, and felt it captured his personality fairly well. The hardest part had been simply doing it himself. It had taken the better part of a weekend, with lots of mirrors to help him. For as long as he could remember, it was the only time in his life he’d remained shirtless for more than one day.

Credence usually hated to disrobe in front of anyone, though he’d once had an ex ask to sketch him, he’d politely declined. They’d broken up three weeks later anyway, because Credence found out they’d gotten someone else to agree to be drawn, naked.

That wasn’t even taking into account the dozens of scars he had, some of which were impossible to heal all the way, hence the size of the design, it took up a good portion of his middle to upper back. When it was a lion, it would stretch from his neck to his lower back, but as a lamb, sleeping and content, it was settled between his shoulder blades.

Someday, he thought he might like to add a set of silver or gold angel wings to each side, though it might have been more than a little on the nose, sticking it to his old life as a formerly thought to be nomaj.

Before the day he got his letter from Ilvermorny, he had imagined he would grow up and just… drift aimlessly through life. Even after getting settled in a foster home where he could finally sleep through the night without fear of a beating in the day for a task he hadn’t known he had failed, it was still missing something.

Then he’d turned ten years old, and accidentally turned his cereal bowl into a goldfish.

There was no spell for that, but Credence had just been thinking very hard, wishing he had a pet, and his foster parents had shrieked in surprise then clapped with delight. His foster father had said something about how his old neighbor had been just as special.

That very day his letter showed up, brought to the front porch by an elegant raven, and both his new parents had cried, while he was utterly confused.

Scurry meowed loudly, and the silence was further broken by a loud knocking on the front door. Credence felt his cheeks flushing, he’d forgotten to unlock the door, though he’d flipped the open sign around properly. God, sometimes he was just… too lost in thought.

The man behind the door was grinning as Credence opened it, and his heart thundered in his ears as he took in the copious plaid, red hair and full beard, with those familiar twinkling green eyes. Oh, he was a Scamander all right, but he was built so much differently than slight, graceful Newt. He looked rather like he’d never stopping fighting in a war, only found something different to punch, weights to lift, instead of guns and rations.

“Hi there, you must be Mister Barebone, the owner of this fine establishment. Newt told me all about you.”

Credence found himself choking on a nervous laugh, and his eyes widened in horror at his own response. “Um, yeah. That’s me. Though, I’m not really worthy of a Mister… just Credence is good. But you… Mister Scamander, welcome. Please, come in, sit down wherever you’d like… uh, lemme grab the book… unless you already have an idea in mind of what you’d like?”

His hands flapped around like errant birds, like something of Newt’s zoo collection that might have gotten loose, so much that he barely noticed when Theseus _followed_ him to the back of the shop, and just grinned easily, as if he wasn’t completely intimidating and making Credence far sweatier than he should have been so early in the day.

“Not at all. I haven’t been in one of these places in years. I’d be happy to see what you’ve got. Though I’m sure Newt probably told you, I’m fairly picky about what I want permanently etched into my skin. Also just Theseus is fine. I’ve been out of the army for a while..”

Another smile, and Credence found himself relaxing a hair, tempted to smile back, though his hands were still clammy.

The book was only a dozen pages of black and white sketches, but Credence was fairly proud of them, until Theseus remained silent as he flipped through them, and remained so for a good ten minutes. “Do you think you know what design you want?” His voice wavered traitorously.

The red haired man looked over at him, and his heart fairly skipped a beat.

God… what the fuck was wrong with him?

“I do. But the linework is probably all you’ll be able to get done today. I have to be somewhere around six. Much as I regret to cut our time together short.”

Credence was definitely blushing. Even if Theseus’ flirting was completely unintentional, it was still damned charming. But then again, how could it be?

The man was _so_ obvious, shucking off his shirt, pointing to where he wanted the outline on his chest, right between his collarbone and his pectorals. A chestplate, Credence thought, that’s what they were usually called. It was a perfect place for something a former soldier would want.

The piece Theseus had selected was an assortment of exotic flowers, like he wanted a delicately designed bouquet to bloom forth on his skin. Credence prayed his hand wouldn’t shake too much as he began to draw, the tip of his wand pressed firmly onto the man’s chest, moving slowly and carefully over the warm surface of Theseus’ skin.

Body heat was never usually an issue, neither was proximity to customers, but it seemed with that one in particular, he was fighting a losing battle with his own arousal.

Credence shifted on his feet, his cock already thickening between his legs, rubbing up against his jean inseam, and he huffed out a breath, before he felt fingers curling around his wrist, halting the movement. He lifted up his wand so that he wouldn’t accidentally hurt the man, as he looked up to find Theseus watching him closely, green eyes darkened.

“Are you alright? You seem a little overheated.”

The man licked his lips and his eyes dropped down to about where Credence’s mouth was, and he froze. “Of course, I’m fine... Are you?”

“You’re adorable. Am I making you nervous?”

Credence blinked rapidly and tried to return his focus to the task at hand, namely the hand stopping him from finishing the linework.  

“No, Mister Scamander, but if you would let me go I could finish…”

“Damn. Sorry. But please, call me Theseus. What time is it?”

“Almost four thirty.”

The man sat up suddenly, and Credence instantly tried to retreat, kept in place only by the man’s hold on him, thus, feeling a bit crowded, and very worried that his cock was now visible through his jeans.

“Oh shit. I completely forgot to tell Percy where we were going... fuck. Do you have a fireplace here that’s wired for floo?”

Credence blinked again, as goosebumps broke out over his skin thanks to the fact that he could feel Theseus’ thumb rubbing over the inside of his wrist, before he let go at once, and was reaching over for his shirt. “Sorry no, I don’t.”

“That’s okay. I’ve gotta run now then.”

He glanced down at himself, at the half finished lattice work of vines and roses and grimaced.

“Just try to come back as soon as you can. Maybe tomorrow?”

Credence bit his tongue when he realized how eager he sounded, but Theseus just smiled.

“You got it. I don’t want you to have to start all over. How long will this last?”

He was buttoning up his shirt, beginning to hide the silver lines, and Credence tried to think straight, “Forty-eight hours.”

It was an approximation, but Theseus nodded,

“Great. Thank you. Here you go. I promise I’ll be back with the rest.”

The man was pressing a stack of coins into his hand, and Credence had barely looked down with wide eyes, before he was murmuring it was fine, he only needed half upfront. “I insist.”

Theseus smiled, and then walked towards the front of the shop, vanishing outside among the crowd before Credence could utter a word of protest. The second he was alone, he waved his wand at the front door to lock it and turn the open sign to closed, and ran to the bathroom. He shut the door and then pressed back against it, fighting for breath, his hand instantly moving to palm his cock through his jeans.

A whimper escaped his throat and he squeezed his eyes closed as he lowered the zip and took out his cock, stroking it hard and fast, desperate to finish as quickly as he could, to stop being distracted.

Green eyes with pupils blown wide from lust filled his fantasy, as he pictured the man lying naked beneath him on the table, with Credence perched daintily over him, straddling his waist and riding the perfect cock he _suspected_ the man possessed, hands splayed wide over his muscular chest, he came with a groan, spilling into his fingers and dripping onto the floor, panting hard.

Credence couldn’t believe himself. Losing his concentration over a customer, even if he happened to be a very hot customer, a war hero, Newt’s brother. It just felt... wrong.

The man had practically left in such a hurry as to sprint out of Credence’s shop, and now there was good reason, as he’d turned into some kind of lust driven letch.

He sighed, and then magicked himself clean, before returning to the front of the shop, turning the sign back around with a wave of his wand again. Scurry eventually made an appearance from whence they’d been hiding, under his desk, he suspected. “Why can’t I do anything right?”

All he got in reply was a tiny meow that could have been a chastisement or simply a request for food. He tried not to feel too guilty about what he’d just done, and consoled himself with the fact that maybe that was simply the effect Theseus had on most people. Scurry wasn’t much help, weaving their way around his legs and just barely providing enough distraction for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

  


Percival had not been sitting by the door waiting for word from Theseus, no he had not, but the second he heard a knock and opened it to find the red haired man, he relaxed for the first time all evening. “Theseus.”

“Percy. You’re looking well.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure. Shall we?”

“Are we not-”

_Apparating, side-along, or what have you,_ Percival was going to ask, but instead, the man stepped in close, and pulled him in for a hug, taking him by surprise. “I’ve missed you Percy.”

He blinked, and stuttered out an echo of the sentiment, unsure as to exactly why it set his heart to racing. But the firm grasp of the man’s fingers curling at the back of his neck soothed him almost instantly, as he was overwhelmed with the smell of Theseus’ cologne.

“It’s been a while.”

He felt the man choke on a laugh as he pulled away, hand still on Percival’s neck, curving up to his face before dropping away completely. Theseus was looking him right the eye, searching for something, but Percival didn’t know what it could possibly be.

“You’ll never guess what I did today.”

Finally they were actually going, leaving his dull and drab apartment behind, in favor of walking on foot to wherever the war hero wanted to go for drinks, Percival supposed, and then he noticed that the silence was directed at him. He was required to guess.

“Signed a dozen autographs?”

He tried to smile, hoping the bitterness wasn’t painfully obvious in his tone and found Theseus on the verge of pouting at him.

“You know I’m not _that_ famous Percy. That was always you, insisting on that. I went to get my second tattoo started. Newt said he knew someone, and wow, let me tell you, that _someone_ is some _thing_ else.”

The sharp prickle of heat that shot down his spine to sour in his gut at the tone of Theseus’ voice surprised Percival. He didn’t _get_ jealous easily, much less of former lovers who he hadn’t seen in years and could have been engaged for all he knew.

One quick glance to the man’s left hand assured him that was blessedly not the case, along with the fact that one didn’t ask out someone for drinks for… catching up. Did they? “Yeah?”

By the time they were settled at a friendly pub, mainly for Theseus’ sake, Percival was parched, desperate for something with whiskey in it, and the man had been talking for minutes now about the cute, possibly part fae creature who owned the specific shop he’d gone to on his brother’s advice.

He frowned as his drink was set down in front of him, and he downed half of it in one swallow,

“Wait, what was the name again?”

_“‘Bare Your Soul to the Bone’_ subheading, _‘with magical tattoos._ ’ Sounds like a gimmick right? But they aren’t just any sort of ink. They can shape-shift, change colors, even be charmed to vanish if need be.”

“Sounds… interesting.”

‘ _And you’re infatuated. Calm down.’_ He thought to himself. But Percival refrained from actually putting such a cutting chastisement to words. Theseus could do whatever he wanted, with whoever he wanted. Percival was just… being pretty fucking ridiculous.

Theseus simply shrugged, and took a drink from his own glass, a brand of hard cider that apparently one could only enjoy in America,

“I’m going back tomorrow. Can’t let their glorious work go to waste. You should come by. Maybe you’ll find something that catches your eye. You need something between those shoulders besides the weight of the world, you know.”

Percival’s attention was caught at that, and he looked over to find Theseus watching him very closely, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. “Sure. Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I am, old friend. I can read you like a book. You thought I was coming here to see you. But really, I’m supposed to be applying for a job. Picquery won’t say, but I know it’s yours. No one else needs such high security clearance. Why didn’t you write me? Tell me you were thinking of retiring.”

Percival snapped, slamming his empty glass down and shaking his head, ignoring Theseus’ flinch. “I’m not. I didn’t really have a choice, okay? I’m being forced out. She doesn’t think I have… she doesn’t think I can keep doing this. She’s probably right. I’m compromised. It’s okay. I need a vacation anyway.”

“You and me both, Percy. Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s still nice to be able to see you, even if it’s only in a professional… context.”

The way he hesitated made Percival wonder if maybe it _wasn’t_ all in his head.

Theseus _might_ want him for more than his job expertise and experience. “Of course. Yes.”

The fingers that trailed over the back of his hand took him by surprise, and Percival thought he was imagining it for a good long moment, before they pressed harder, slipping under his hand. Then Theseus was squeezing tightly, like a handshake, but long after they’d been acquainted. So really, more like an excuse to touch him. The warmth curling in his abdomen was no longer from jealousy and certainly not from the buzz of the alcohol yet, but Percival held his breath, resisting the urge to breathe out the man’s name on a cautious sigh.

Theseus held his hand throughout the next order of drinks, and even when he got up to go to the men’s room and then returned, he picked it right back up.

Percival hadn’t the faintest idea of what it meant, or what he should do, but he didn’t fight it either, and eventually, he was far too drunk to be apparating anywhere, so he tapped a thumb on Theseus’ wrist. “Yes?”

“I think I need to be getting home. You need to be getting back to your hotel.”

Theseus’ laugh was just as melodious as he remembered,

“I’m staying with Newt. But I told him I was meeting an old friend tonight. I have no curfew, Percy, if I’m welcome for a nightcap, I’d very much enjoy it.”

The green of his eyes was swallowed by black now, as Percival stared at his friend, and found Theseus looking right back at him, and down at his mouth again specifically, as he did some very quick thinking.

Theseus was saying pretty much exactly what he’d said the first night, their first time.

_‘Soldier, I could use a pick me up. Don’t suppose you have any coffee in your barracks?’_

Percival was already halfway to being hard just thinking about it, and he licked his lips before nodding. “Excellent.”

Theseus paid the tab, and ignored Percival’s protests, before ushering him out of the bar, and down the street, well lit despite the late hour, though he found himself led down a dark alleyway, and not at all towards his apartment building, which was still three blocks down.

Hard brick bit into his shoulders, only somewhat padded by his layers of clothing, and Theseus was then insistently pressing against him, hot mouth moving over his own lips. The kiss was wet and sloppy, as Theseus ground his hips into Percival’s.

White sparks exploded in his line of sight, which began and ended with the man’s face.

“You’re… full of surprises, Theo.” He managed to get out, and Theseus groaned,

“I’d rather be full of you, if I’m honest. I’ve got lots of time to make up for. So do you, but right now, I owe you one. Don’t move.”

Percival’s mouth was gaped open in protest as the man slid down the length of his body to kneel in front of him, his hands already undoing the button and fly of his pants, palming over his hard cock. “Fuck… _what_ the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like Percy?”

It looked like Theseus was stroking over his cock, preparing to put it in his mouth, which happened about three seconds later, after his thumb had swiped over the slippery head, and Percival’s head fell backwards against the alleyway wall as the heat of the man’s mouth engulfed over it.

_‘You need to cast a disillusionment charm.’_ The rational side of his brain informed him, and he flicked a hand halfheartedly at the entrance, praying it would be enough, when he felt Theseus’ tongue flicking against the underside of his cock, he groaned aloud.

Percival wanted to touch Theseus, he wanted to ruin that damned perfect hairstyle, force him closer and feel the scrape of the man’s beard against his bare inner thighs, not just imagine the echo of the sensation through the fabric of his pants.

“Theseus… can’t this wait? My place isn’t very far, I swear…”

The man just hummed against and around him, swallowing his cock deeper and sucking hard, effectively telling him to shut up, and push all other thoughts to the wayside. Percival gave in, surrendering that fight, gently thrusting against the man, driving his cock into Theseus’ throat properly, carding a hand through that silky red hair. “Fuck…”

Theseus’ broad palms gripped his hips tightly, and when his nose brushed against Percival’s stomach, he felt like sobbing from the sensation. He’d never done anything of the sort before, that was, had it done _to_ him, much less with another man besides the one in front of him.

“I’m close…”

At that, finally a respite came about from Theseus pulling back, only to grin up at him, chin and lips shiny with saliva, “You’re such a martyr Percy. Let me take care of you, hmm?”

The man’s hand kept stroking over his cock while he eyed him, and Percival sighed.

“Are you going to want to fuck me, or shall I simply expect to recover in enough time to be able to-”

Theseus shut him up again by leaning forward to swallow his cock back down, and sucking ruthlessly, pulling back slowly while flicking his tongue against the tip, cheeks hollowed, before reaching into Percival’s rapidly falling trousers to tease cool fingertips against his sack.

He didn’t shout, but he did shudder through his orgasm, feeling every convulsion of Theseus’ throat as he accepted each pulse of come, swallowing it all perfectly, moving back once more, leaving Percival feeling weak in the knees, hypersensitive and shaky, as his spit slick cock began softening over the now rough fabric of his pants. He’d barely lasted a minute, thanks to his own stubbornness. If he’d jerked off like he wanted to before meeting Theseus, things might have gone differently. “See? Not so hard.”

“Shut up.”

Percival’s back was slightly sore and his head ached a little from the bricks, but Theseus cleaned him up with a wordless spell, redid his pants, and stood back up to peck him on the cheek. “C’mon.”

Percival didn’t know if he was just starting to be hit by the full brunt of the liquor, or his climax had struck him dumb. He followed, and only when they stopped outside his apartment did he realize where they were.  
“I’m guessing the key to your wards is different, so I’m gonna need you to let us in, Percy.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

Percival withdrew his wand to place it on the door handle, which glowed green, before then swinging open, and Theseus half carried him inside, before closing it behind them. He staggered over to the couch, and collapsed onto it, while the man followed, taking in the sight of his apartment decor. It had changed a lot since the man had last been in New York, and he barely noticed the hand caressing his face, until he leaned into it, and found Theseus kissing him again.

“Percy, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m just happy you still like me.”

“Why the hell would I ever stop?”

“It just feels like… life dragged us apart.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You did everything you could.”

Percival blinked, and he got the distinct impression they were no longer just talking about what had happened between the two of them. Theseus moved over to straddle his lap, and kissed him in earnest, hands braced on his shoulders, and Percival could feel the man’s own cock grinding against him, making him jump from the sensitivity, and moan into his mouth.

“God… Perce, you’re irresistible. How the fuck have you not found _them_ yet?”

“What the fuck are you talking about Theo?”

Percival’s eyes were shut, he was mindlessly thrusting up with little jerks of his hips, rutting his cock against the seam, hoping to will himself to get hard again out of sheer need.

“Your soulmate. It’s high time you’d have met them by now. Thirty-five is when you’re supposed to. And you’ve been thirty-five for five years.”

“You calling me old?”

Percival was smiling but it was more than a little forced, and Theseus sighed, reaching down to palm him through his pants,

“We’re barely three years apart. Don’t be ridiculous. If I can’t get you up, it’s on me, not you.”

Theseus leaned close again, and didn’t kiss him, not on his mouth, he swerved, licking and nipping down Percival’s neck, until he was gasping for air, and aching against the man’s hand.

“Oh god.”

“I want you to fuck me. Please?”

Theseus Scamander, begging to be taken, perched on his thighs, how could he possibly refuse?

“Bed. I can’t possibly get the right angle here.”

“Gotcha.”

Theseus stifled a snort, and then got up shakily, before then tugging Percival to his feet. He dragged them along the hallway, now somewhat familiar to him at least, then magic was touching Percival’s skin, melting his clothing away, reappearing over across the room, atop his dresser, slightly rumpled. “Mum taught me that one.” Theseus was breathing against Percival’s ear, and he shivered. “Good to know. Mine is a bit better I suspect.”

“Shut up. Where’s your lube?”

“Well which is it, shut up or where do I keep my lube? I can’t do both.”

Theseus sounded like he’d choked on a laugh again, and then just fumbled around the bedside drawer, finding it easily enough. Percival was a sucker for some nomaj things, and flavored lubrication was one of them. That one happened to be strawberry, and the fingers Theseus pressed into his mouth were painfully sweet, slippery with it. “Just for fun, right?”

Percival laid back on the bed, and watched as Theseus reached behind his back, working himself open, jaw going slack, and the scent of strawberries filled the room, as it mixed with body heat and he swallowed, trying to mentally prepare.

Odds were with his luck, he’d come almost the second he was fully inside Theseus, and that was one hell of a way to make an impression after so long, wasn’t it?

Percival’s eye caught on the strange shapes over Theseus’ skin amidst the shadows of chest hair, swirls of silver that only crept over half of his upper body, and he realized that had to be the beginnings of his tattoo.

“No you won’t. It’s why I blew you first Percy. It’ll take longer. I’ll be riding you a good while.”

Theseus sure sounded confident, and he couldn’t help smirking at that, until he felt the man lining his cock up, and sinking down onto him halfway.

So he’d shown off by reading Percival’s mind, only to be proven correct. Damn it all.

A groan escaped him, unbidden, and his hips thrust up so quickly of their own volition to ensure he fucked inside Theseus completely, it stole his breath away. “F-u-u-ck…”

“Oh… god, please Daddy…”

Percival’s cock actually twitched at that, and he _knew_ the other man felt it, falling forward to brace himself on his hands, right beside his head. “How fucking dare you.”

“I’m sorry… I got a little overwhelmed. You’re so thick.”

“You’re _tight.”_

“I just took three fingers… so, you’re welcome?”

_“Move, dammit.”_

Theseus obeyed easily enough, and started to roll his hips, shifting up off Percival’s dick before slamming back down, making his entire body shudder from the contact, the wet and hot grip of his ass over him was definitely the best kind of torture he’d experienced in a long time.

A blowjob was one thing, but the way Theseus moved atop him was something else entirely. When their lips met in a frantic and sloppy kiss, Percival swore he might come from that alone, until he felt the man guiding one of his hands down, to stroke on _his_ cock.

The sensations were enough to force his eyes shut, and he barely caught Theseus’ strangled words, “Please, please, I’m so close…”

Percival nearly choked on his own reply. The idea of using the ridiculous nickname for himself was far from ideal, but he did it, only because he knew Theseus wanted him to,

“Come on baby, come for Daddy.”

Percival’s hand wrapped firmly around the man’s cock, stroking him hard and fast, feeling the sheer amount of slip and slide from copious precome, so that he knew the exact instant Theseus had given in, as the clench of his ass made his vision white out. “Fuck!”

Percival felt wetness smearing over his hand and up his chest, as Theseus came with a shout, and he followed almost directly after, his cock milked of every drop, hips jerking as he emptied himself into the man. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

Percival shushed him with a kiss, his clean hand holding tight at the back of his head, keeping him close, letting him ride out the aftershocks as his cock finally softened, and Theseus let him slip out, while his come began dripping down the inside of the man’s thighs.

He collapsed onto the bed beside Percival, and panted for air. “I don’t mind it, but to be honest, I don’t see myself ever actually _having_ kids. No real life Daddy occasions for me thanks.”

“Well, if you ever found your soulmate, you’d probably want to.”

Percival frowned. He didn’t like frowning so soon after fucking himself out so thoroughly.

“Where the fuck did you hear that nonsense anyway?”

Theseus put a hand to Percival’s chest, as if trying to calm him, drawing mindless shapes, rubbing fingers through his own release, drying tackily on his skin.

“I don’t know… read about it. Heard some people at school talking about it. Seemed to be a thing.”

He leaned over to put his mouth on the same areas, licking and kissing Percival clean, until he relaxed again, and reached his arms up to brace around Theseus’ neck, keeping him close. He suspected the whole soulmate thing must have been some European myth or fairytale. It was utter nonsense to grown adults. “You want to stay the night?”

“Please.”

“Okay. Hope you don’t kick in your sleep.”

“Not at all.”

He clicked his fingers to get rid of the rest of the mess, and then shortly after fell asleep with a smile on his face, as Theseus’ cheek was pressed into his chest, arms loosely wrapped around his waist.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Credence slept fitfully through the night, wishing he’d taken up Newt’s offer of a drink with him and Jacob, but the fact was, he had to worry about Theseus Scamander coming back to the shop. He also had to maintain the element of control, and do his best  _ not _ to get a fucking boner when the man was on his table, shirtless and relaxed, muscles rippling like an Adonis. 

God, what was wrong with him?

It had just been a really, really long time since anyone had touched him, that was all. 

Credence was just a little… easily worked up.

He’d never had such… focused attention on him, and when Theseus entered the shop for the second time in two days, Credence wished he didn’t feel the glow of happiness rolling off him in waves, because he knew exactly what it meant. Newt had been the same after the night he’d kissed his first girlfriend, and bounded back into the common room to tell him about it.

“Credence! Hello again. I’m  _ so _ sorry about yesterday. Hopefully we can make some real progress on the artwork today.”

They could maintain that, a professional air, a proper conversation wherein Credence didn’t fumble over his words or accidentally call anyone dangerously attractive, right?

“That’s cute. You’re pretty, uh, pretty too. I told my friend you reminded me of a fae… are you part veela? Is that okay to ask?”

Theseus was blinking up at him, as he worked steadily on the other half of the silver outline, and Credence found himself focusing so hard his knuckles turned white. “I’m sorry?”

His voice came out in a squeak, and Theseus chuckled. Had he just said that last bit out loud? Holy fucking shit. 

“Not to fret darling. Would you ever allow an old man like me to take you to dinner?”

Credence dropped his wand, and Theseus snagged his hand before he could try and catch it, pulling it right to his lips, pressing a wet warm kiss to his previously strained knuckles.

The resisting getting hard thing… ended right then and there. Credence made a sound he didn’t even think was human, and as a result, Theseus fairly growled at him. 

He had wanted to tell the man he didn’t seem old at all, but words had utterly failed him.

“Oh… oh my. You’re sensitive aren’t you?”

Credence was shrugging and trying to play it off like an accident, coughing and mumbling about exfoliating a lot, and Theseus smirked at him, green eyes twinkling.

“Did you mean it though? Do you find me attractive?”

“Yes.”

It was a squeak again, and Credence wished the ground would open up and swallow him down. Instead, he was tugged forward, and nearly fell onto the man’s bare chest, halfway over his body and they were face to face in a heartbeat.

“You’re trembling… have you ever kissed a man before, darling?”

Technically, yes.

But did practicing for when he thought he’d need to kiss a girl someday, really count?

“No.”

Credence lied, his voice a low rasp, as he felt Theseus’ hand leave his own to glide up his neck and cup his cheek, thumb rubbing against his bottom lip. “Good.”

Credence was pulled in the final few inches, and the second their mouths met, he gasped into it. It was like a jolt to his nervous system, and not in a painful sort, but rather, he thought he could come from that amount of contact alone.

Theseus moaned against him, and pressed closer, as something hot and wet slid in between his lips, and he realized it was the man’s tongue, gliding over his teeth and bumping into his own. Credence was drowning in new sensations, and found himself gripping the man’s bare shoulders, before strong arms wound around his waist, and manhandled him up onto the table, so that he was properly straddling Theseus.

It was like his fantasy had come to life from sheer force of will, but there was nowhere to hide his burgeoning arousal now, as his spread legs meant his cock rutted right over the man’s thigh.

“Oh merlin, oh baby, you’re  _ so _ hard…”

The man’s hands drifted down his waist and grasped over his backside, making Credence squirm closer and want to shrink away all at once, but he was overheating, so all he really wanted to do was take something else off, and put his mouth all over the man’s skin.

So Credence started by breaking the kiss to nuzzle against Theseus’ neck, and press his lips there, and before parting them and tentatively licking the skin beneath, salty from sweat.

Theseus arched his back and pushed up, thrusting in between Credence’s legs, brushing against his groin and bringing their cocks together for a handful of seconds, before collapsing back down on the table. “Oh fuck. I’m not going to be kicked out for this am I?”

Credence managed to open his eyes, swallowing thickly at the sight of the man’s own green ones blown dark from lust, “I’m molesting a customer, if anyone should be in trouble, it’s me.”

“Nonsense. I seduced you. Do you forgive me?”

Credence gaped at him. “Of course!”

“I don’t generally go around kissing every pretty thing I meet and see. It’s only happened since I’ve been in New York.”

The man’s grin seemed to be trying to tell Credence something he didn’t understand, or couldn’t possibly glean from such a vague statement. “Yeah?”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m not taken. No soulmate yet.”

Credence blinked. “Oh. Me neither.”

Theseus grinned wider, “Lucky me.”

The man kissed him again, and started to roll his hips steadily, providing a constant and delicious amount of friction against Credence’s cock, enough to rip another moan from his throat, and he was half tempted to fondle the man’s chest some more, before a loud knocking interrupted them, and a tingle in the wards told him it was a wizard, not a lost no-maj.

“Shit, sorry, I’ve gotta get that, it could be another customer…”

“Do what you gotta do, darling.” Theseus was saying, voice a quiet murmur.

Credence swallowed and hurriedly scrambled off the man’s body, moving down to land on shaky legs, before stumbling towards the door. 

He could see the outline of a man with broad shoulders and dark hair. To Credence’s eye, he seemed a bit overdressed for the weather, mid fall, but he couldn’t really judge. After all, not everyone liked to show off their tattoos. 

Credence pulled open the door, feeling foolish that he had forgotten to turn the open side but still locked it, and smiled nervously. “Hello sir, I apologize, but I’m currently in the middle of a session-”

“Oh. I’m actually here for him. He told me he would be done by now.”

Credence felt himself go bright red, and he half wondered if steam would come out of his ears from his embarrassment. “So you know Theseus? I mean, Mister Scamander?”

The man before him cracked a smile, and was instantly ten times more handsome, not that Credence was looking. He’d just been fiercely kissed by Theseus Scamander, so naturally he couldn’t manage anything more eloquent.

“Very well yes. You must be uh, Mister Barebone? The whole shop name is very clever of you.”

Credence dropped his eyes, pointedly focusing on the man’s black shiny leather shoes,

“Oh! Thank you. It’s nothing. And just Credence. No _ ‘mister.’” _

“Hmm, I don’t know about that but is Theseus done? Decent and ready to go?”

Credence gulped. He certainly hoped the man wasn’t wearing  _ less _ clothing than he had been when Credence had left him to get the door, “Uh, yeah I think so?”

The man smiled wider,

“Excellent. I’ll get him out of your hair. I’m Percival Graves by the way. Nice to meet you.”

He reached out a hand, and Credence took it, unthinking, before his knees buckled out from under him, and he swooned, feeling as if he’d actually just been touched between his legs, he gasped aloud as he came, his orgasm sudden, dizzying, and utterly embarrassing. “Holy fuck.”

The man was still holding his hand, and had followed him to the floor, as if prepared to catch him, but now was eyeing his unfortunate result of some kind of strange, spontaneous climax.

Credence was just grateful it hadn’t happened while atop Theseus.

“Um, I think maybe I’ve been infected with something?”

His voice was a squeak again, and the man in front of him, Mister Graves, tightened his hold, forcing a gasp out of him. “Uh, no. I don’t think so. I haven’t come in my pants since I was at Ilvermorny. That doesn’t just happen from… this.”

Mister Graves’ thumb rubbed across the back of his knuckles and Credence whimpered, eyes wide in horror. “You did it too?”

The man coughed out a nervous laugh, and nodded slowly. Credence’s eyes dropped to take in the sight of the man’s crotch, rudely so, he knew, but the heavy coat he wore was hiding almost all of his body from view, but for a few inches of his pant legs and his shoes.

“What’s going on? Percy darling, you’re early, I told you six thirty… is uh, everything okay? Did you trip and fall on poor Credence?”

Credence turned back to see Theseus walking towards them, fully dressed, thankfully, but he stopped at once upon the sight of him, hunched over, and  _ still _ attached to the other man by his hand. He yanked it away at once, and instantly felt as if he could breathe easier, murmuring a cleaning spell, vanishing the evidence of his ridiculously over sensitive libido.

Mister Graves got to his feet as well, looking a bit pink in the face, but most likely because he was overheating from so many layers of clothing.

“Theseus… it was just a simple misunderstanding. Are you free to go for the day?”

The man nodded and glanced at Credence with a smile, 

“Yeah, I think so, right? I’m set till tomorrow?”

Mister Graves’ heavy brows were furrowed, and Credence blinked, noting how they were completely dark, but there was some silver to his hair, just at the side of his temples.

“Nonsense. Surely the boy has other clients besides you?”

Credence bristled, and opened his mouth to protest many things, he wasn’t a boy, he didn’t mind Theseus coming back right away, and oh yeah, he  _ didn’t _ exactly have any other clients, but the red haired man stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder,

“I’m his favorite, aren’t I, sweetheart?”

“Stop that. You’re embarrassing him with this unnecessary nicknaming. Why do you do this to people you’ve only just met?”

Theseus smirked, and Credence felt a tingle of something like further arousal rolling down his spine, as the man leaned close to Mister Graves and dramatically whispered,

“I was his first kiss, I think it’s fair to say I can call him what he is. A sweet, darling little morsel.”

Credence was very lost, and felt very confused, but the men just exchanged a glance, no words passed between them, yet, when they looked back to him again, it seemed as if they had communicated  _ something _ . “So  _ he’s _ the one you were talking about.”

“Yep.”

“Why do you think I creamed myself at the touch of his hand?”

Theseus’ own eyebrows lifted nearly off his forehead, “You did what now?”

Credence decided now was as good a time as any to disapparate, so he ran for it, and vanished from right outside his shop.

  
  


* * *

 

 

“What the fuck have you done?”

Percival gaped after the tattooist, Mister -  _ not _ Mister, but -  _ Credence _ Barebone, who had practically sprinted right out of his own business, and Theseus just laughed, the jerk.

“Oh my god Percy! He’s your soulmate! He has to be. Here, take my hand. Do you feel hot? Hard? Wet?”

Percival frowned down at their linked hands, focusing on the scar that crossed over the man’s knuckles, and he felt like he remembered the story that went with it, that day… but more importantly, he felt nothing. 

It was pleasant, sure, as good as it could feel to be securely clasped in the man’s palm.

“Okay. Now think about the other handshake. How was that? Are you sure he  _ didn’t _ cop a feel? I mean, I sure wouldn’t blame him.”

Theseus was laughing now, hard enough to cry and Percival just grimaced. 

It had been very weird, taking the younger man’s hand, and feeling like he’d just been zapped with some sort of pleasurable electric current, ending straight in his cock drooling a full load into his boxers. Thank fucking mercy lewis for his coat, or he’d have looked quite insane, and entirely perverted. As it was, he’d thought that the tattooist had simply spilled water or something on himself before coming out to greet him. Apparently not.

“Fuck. You guys are both so fucking hot. It’s unfair. Unreal. How have you never met before? Not ever felt a pull to come in here? To get a tattoo?”

Theseus was rambling, and Percival was too tired to make him stop, instead he was rather concerned about the younger man. If they’d scared him off, or if they’d even be able to leave the shop when the owner was gone… and Theseus was in the middle of a tattoo.

“No… I just came by here the other day, on a whim.”

A whim that gave him a vague upset stomach and small headache.

Nothing at all like the instant orgasmic high of brushing hands, like they were in some kind of victorian era set piece, and a finger graze meant the equivalent of bent over a desk midday fucking. God. 

The mental image of that gorgeous young man bent over  _ any _ flat surface was enough to make him half hard again, and Theseus must have noticed, because he was suddenly much closer, and putting a hand inside his coat, trailing his fingers over Percival’s crotch. 

“Oh Daddy… do you want to fuck me instead, while we wait for him to come back?”

Theseus managed to make him harder with just a handful of words and a half decent suggestion, or maybe it sounded so sweet because he was throbbing to actually be touched on more than his hand when he came the next time. 

“No! What if he comes back and catches us… midway through fu-”

“I think it would be fun. Please Percy… please?”

Theseus was on the verge of humping his thigh and acting like some sort of wild dog, but Percival was just mindlessly aroused enough not to care. “Okay fine.”

“There’s a table you can bend  _ me _ over in the back…”

Percival swallowed the urge to chastise the man for reading his mind without an invitation,  _ again _ and instead praised his quick thinking, following him the instant that Theseus started to head that way, shedding clothing as he went. 

When he found Theseus leaning over the table in question, ass out and wiggling slightly, he gave into the momentary temptation to smack it, and watched happily as the man’s skin turned pink. “Tell me Perce, what do you think your mate is going to do when he catches you fucking someone else?”

“Shut up or I’ll gag you.”

He ignored Theseus’ next comment which sounded suspiciously like  _ ‘Bet you won’t’ _ and worked on undoing his zipper. He didn’t bother taking much off beyond his overcoat, which had now becoming stiflingly warm. Theseus glanced back to see the differing levels in their undress, and actually pouted, so Percival just spanked him again, and told him to grow up. 

“But Perce…”

“Really, that’s annoying if I’m not actually inside you, or you’re not begging to suck my dick. So shush.”

He snapped his fingers for slick, unflavored, alas, and then put a hand between Theseus’ legs, pressing one finger in with shocking ease, and he relished the way it made the other man squirm, thighs clenching around Percival’s wrist as he tried to fuck himself back harder, already begging for another finger. “Eager, hmm?”

“Do you want me to beg?”

Percival smiled, and petted his free hand down Theseus’ bare back, the broad muscles and flexing of his spine evident when he worked two fingers in, curling just right to hit the man’s prostate, forcing a groan out. “Yes, beg Daddy to fuck you.”

The sound of shattering glass filled the silence between Percival stroking over his own cock and preparing to replace his fingers with it, and Theseus actually working up to begging for what he’d just had literally less than twenty four hours before, forcing them both to turn and find that Credence had returned, with what had been a bottle of wine in hand.

“Oh… how sweet Percy. He came back to seduce you.”

Percival was mortified, caught as he was, cock in hand, with a shameless and naked Theseus spread in front of him, and his only thought was, what if Credence had just been a few minutes later? “I uh, you’re getting my table dirty… gentlemen.”

As they watched, the young man drew his wand to repair the broken bottle, and set it aside, before flicking it at Theseus, instantly reclothing him, while Percival quickly and reluctantly put himself away, before raising his hands slowly, a sign of surrender, no harm meant or done.

“Now, Mister Barebone, please. Forgive me. Forgive us. We had no idea why you left, when we seemed to be getting along okay…”

Percival was quite frankly, mortified and it was making him sound like he’d smoked half a pack of cigarettes, or hell, the whole thing. Theseus didn’t so much as elbow him as shove him forward, and then Credence was forced to lower his wand, lest he be jabbed somewhere unfixable. “You were, you were about to…”

“Yeah. I apologize. Again. I let my dick get in the way. But after we had that… whatever it was, I could hardly think straight! I needed to come again for real… which is, a shitty excuse.”

Percival put his palm to his forehead, eyes squeezing shut tightly, and prayed for some kind of miracle. Luckily it came in the form of Credence himself stepping closer, and gently prying it away, instantly throwing him on high alert, and into hyper arousal. Fuck. Theseus was right, the bastard. “I think… we have some kind of connection. I just saw you two and it felt wrong.”

Percival winced on Theseus’ behalf, but the boy didn’t seem to mean any harm, and the more he looked, the more he forgot about the other man, rather lost in the tattoo artists ethereal pale skin, dark eyes and plush pink lips before him. “Well go on then. Kiss him already.”   
Theseus hissed from somewhere behind him, and he ignored it, only in favor of focusing on the boy, murmuring low, “Would you be alright with that? If I kissed you?”

“Just to prove it’s not a fluke.”

The tattooist breathed, and Percival was inclined to agree, testing was always a good reason for a kiss, so put his free hand to brace at the back of Credence;s neck, and closed the final few inches between them, letting their lips meet.

The effect was instantaneous, and their bodies were flush together in a heartbeat, as Percival somehow disapparated them both to land inside his apartment bedroom, without a thought given to it, beyond  _ need _ and  _ want _ .

A soft gasp escaped Credence from the sudden change of scenery, and Percival experienced a twinge of regret for leaving Theseus behind, until he felt the long fingered hand grazing over the prominent bulge in his pants, and he nearly cried out from the force of his near painfully fast orgasm. “F-fucking hell. We have got to  _ stop _ that.”

Percival was shivering, barely able to remain upright with his current jelly legs, standing right next to his bed, and he swallowed thickly, pulling back from Credence to find him blinking back tears, lips now reddened and slightly swollen from the fierceness of their kiss. “Did you-?”   
“ _ Yes. _ ”

The tattooist sounded wrecked, as if he’d been torn between a moan and the verbal reply. All Percival could think of was  _ more _ , and that was, more contact and less clothing. He reached out and caressed Credence’s cheek, thumbing away the tear tracks, and feeling how his slender form trembled like a shaking leaf. “May I?”

Credence shrugged, and Percival took that to mean ‘ _ yes _ ,’ until told otherwise, so he dragged his hand lower, and snapped his fingers, vanishing their clothing to reappear at the front of his closet, hanging and pressed, like new. 

Theseus could certainly stand to learn to refine his charms, he thought. 

Credence was staring, and he couldn’t help a smile that curved his lips. 

“Never tried that one before?”

“What was it?”

“ _ Divesto practicale _ .”

“Oh-h.., neat.”

Percival had put a hand to Credence’s bare hip, and sufficiently distracted him, openly staring, drinking in the sight of miles and miles of pale, unmarked skin, which aroused the hell out of him, but also confused him, so he asked. “No tattoos for yourself?”

Instead of answering with words, Credence turned around, and reached back to tap between his shoulders. As Percival watched, a creature stirred, glittering silver and shimmery white, before appearing to roar, and then it shifted into a red and golden lion.

“What was it before? It moved so fast I didn’t catch it.”   
Percival was caressing the tattoo, fingers tracing the moving and swirling lines, petting the lion as best he could, and Credence shivered under his hand, which he let slip down, the ridges and bumps of the boy’s spine somewhat defined beneath his almost translucent skin.

“A lamb.”

“Fitting, rather. You’re mild and meek, but so damn aggressive when you want to be. Promise you won’t be gentle?”

Percival was mainly teasing, but when Credence turned around and fairly pounced, kissing him and wrapping his arms around his neck, he couldn’t help the full body jolt that went through him, as he stumbled forward, one hand under Credence’s pert ass, while the other felt blindly for the bed so that he could be off of his feet.

Percival practically fell onto it and might have nearly crushed the tattooist, but he let out a quiet giggle, and Percival decided  _ that _ was the most magical thing he’d ever heard in his life, so he endeavored to make it happen again. 

However, the idea of marking and kissing and licking every inch of skin was also mighty distracting, so he shifted up onto his elbows, and began to kiss down Credence’s neck, keeping one hand groping over his ass and the other drifting along his side, intent on touching his cock when he got the chance. Percival really wanted it in his mouth, preferably very soon, and he could already feel his own erection returning in force, before Credence accidentally grazed a leg between his own. “Fuck.”

He was not going to rut against the boy’s thigh, he was not, he would not-

“Mister Graves? What are you doing?”

Percival had been licking over one of Credence’s nipples, but paused at the question, looking up to find dark liquid eyes locked on his own. “Um… has no one ever touched you here before?”

Credence shook his head, and then bit his bottom lip worriedly,

“I’d never kissed anyone really, until today. The last time I tried to date someone, we only got to holding hands… so now, whatever we may be,  _ connected  _ or not, I’m afraid I’ll be no good.”

Percival cursed under his breath and also mentally condemned with virtual daggers whomever had made the poor gorgeous creature in his arms think such a thing, for without even trying, he’d already come twice at Credence’s hand from sheer power of their bond.

“You’re perfect. Just let me do this for you. Just experience it.”

Percival returned his lips to Credence’s chest, and kissed down past the dark trail of hair leading beyond his navel to the boy’s cock, red and weeping at the tip, as if crying out for him to touch it. Gladly, he obeyed, giving the length of Credence’s cock a long lick, and relishing each strangled gasp that escaped the boy, as he used spread palms to hold down his hips, to avoid being crushed by his thighs. “Please! I can’t…”

Credence choked on a moan, as Percival felt his cock pulsing beneath him, from such a gentle caress, spilling out stripes of white onto his stomach as he watched, entranced. 

Credence shuddered through his aftershocks, while Percival felt almost like he was getting an echo of the sensation, and his own hips ground into the mattress automatically, his dick throbbing where it was trapped beneath his stomach.

“Fuck… how did I get so lucky? You, Credence, you beautiful artist, you’re my soulmate?”

Percival shifted a hand down, dragging his fingers through some of the slippery wetness of the boy’s come, and then reached below his softening cock to the silky skin of his balls, then gently massaged over his hole, feeling how Credence jumped at that. “Oh! Oh god.”

“I’m going to go slow, I promise.”

His voice sounded more like a croak, but Percival was too lost, drowning in the bliss that was seeing the boy’s every reaction to his touch. He wondered how accurate Theseus might have been. His soulmate… was half his age almost. Percival couldn’t possibly dream about being able to keep up… could he?

When he kissed along Credence’s inner thigh, another moan escaped him, and there was a hand in Percival’s hair, fingers curling into his scalp, tugging him closer, forcing him lower, so he could lick and kiss past the sensitive skin of his taint and swipe his tongue over Credence’s tight hole. “That feels like…”

“Hmmm?”

Percival hummed right against the boy’s sensitive skin, and earned a squeak for his efforts, while he saw the boy’s other hand stroking over his cock out of the corner of his eye. His own body moved in tandem, thrusting into the sheets, desperate to come himself, even if it was just frantically short lived. Percival put one hand to Credence’s right leg, nudging him up and spreading him wider, for better access, and the second he could manage it, slipped a spit slick finger inside, while still licking over the twitching rim. 

Wordlessly and wandless, Percival cast for more slick, and Credence writhed beneath him when he allowed a second finger to join the first, seemingly unaware of exactly what was about to happen. “Mister Graves!”

Percival curled his fingers again, rubbing insistently, and he squeezed his eyes shut as white hot sparks rolled down his spine, something  _ somehow _ imitating exactly what he was doing to Credence, but doing it to him also. “Oh fuck…”

Percival gasped against the boy’s inner thigh, riding out his own blinding orgasm, while he felt Credence whimpering through another, fucking himself thoroughly against his own hand. Percival opened his eyes slowly, as warm wet stickiness was cooling rapidly beneath his stomach, and found the boy staring up at the ceiling, mumbling something to himself. 

“What’s that?” He couldn’t help smiling dizzily as he asked.

It felt like Percival had run a marathon, or been hit by a freight train of pleasure to the gut. He wanted to sleep for a week, but also do it all over again. 

He’d not bottomed for anyone in a long time, since before Theseus, but he was very, very tempted to ask Credence if he wanted to fuck him or be fucked first.  

“I was just thinking… if this is how it is going to be, I’m never going to get used to it.” Credence was saying, and Percival managed to lift a hand from bracing against the bed to pet over the boy’s leg, and up, caressing his side, splaying over his ribs. 

His skin was  _ so _ soft, smooth, a perfect canvas. Credence could have a dozen tattoos and there would still be room to paint lush colorful designs on his pale skin. Even just his legs were endless. “Is that okay? I mean, I don’t have major expectations. Theseus means well, but he needs to learn when to shut the fuck up.”

Credence leaned up on an elbow to look at him properly, and Percival saw his cheeks were wet with further tears. Did he actually make the tattooist cry in bed? Was that a good or bad thing?

“I don’t know… if we do anything more, will we be bonded for life? Is there magic to do with our fu-”

Credence rapidly trailed off as pink began to blossom upon the surface on his face, and spread down his neck and chest. He then dropped his gaze to where Percival was touching him still, now half tempted to flick a thumb over his closest nipple.

“I think, we could do whatever you want. I don’t want to impose or assume. Have you liked what’s happened so far?”

Credence nodded so quickly it almost made him laugh. “Okay, good.” Percival said carefully.

“What else is there?”

“Besides this?”

His free hand shifted up to trail fingertips over the boy’s languid cock, and he saw Credence trembling from such a delicate touch, “So, much, more.”

“I want to.”

 

* * *

 

 

Credence stared at the man, awaiting his next suggestion, and in a heartbeat, Mister Graves had surged up to kiss him, lips hot and slippery, tasting vaguely salty and bitter, with a jolt, he knew it was from his own release. 

A strong arm moved around his waist, and his body shifted as Mister Graves flipped them, so that Credence was now looming atop him, straddling the man’s muscled legs, while his hand was firm and flat against his lower back. “Mister Graves… what are you doing?”

“Do you want to ride me, or fuck me?”

Credence felt a full body shiver rocking through him, and the man’s hand slipped down to curl his fingers around his cock once more, forcing his eyes closed, and making his jaw go slack.

“Oh god… I don’t know… what do you want me to do more?”

Mister Graves leaned up and nipped at his neck, licking over the bite to soothe the sting, stealing a gasp from him. “I want you to fuck me, preferably, please?”

“Okay…”

The man’s legs opened below Credence, jostling his hips, and he shuffled back to slide between them, hearing his heartbeat in his ears, threatening to drown out every sound but that alone. Credence just stared down at him, noticing bits of silver among the dark swirls of hair on the man’s chest and framing above his dick, he was barely able to look past it, even as Mister Graves snagged one of his wrists and put his hand right over his length, then pushed it lower. The man guided his fingers to rub against his hole, and Credence’s cock jumped atop his thigh, dripping clear fluid, eager to be touched. “Oh god, I’m going to-”

“Yes. You don’t need to worry about going slow. I can handle your lovely dick.”

The way the man smiled at him, easy and graceful, comfortable with his own nudity and actually seeming to  _ like _ Credence’s body right back, was just overwhelming for him.

“Okay.” He breathed out, sounding just as nervous as he felt, though Mister Graves’ strong hands were sure over him, and a wordless charm conjured cool slick over his cock, ripping another gasp from his throat, as he was gently pulled forward and down, for a quick kiss, before the man let go of his hand to murmur, “Go on, try it.”

Credence’s cock was currently pressed between the man’s legs and heat radiated against him, as he felt the man’s hole starting to give, inch by inch the muscle fluttered around him, seeming to swallow his cock in, only to throw him so close to the edge of coming, he had to squeeze his eyes closed, and go over the last week’s budget in his head to stave off the urge. 

“Mercy… Credence, you feel incredible. How’s it for you?”

Mister Graves sounded like a customer might after a full line workup, voice hoarse from disuse and with a touch of a growl. Credence could only whimper in reply, resting his forehead against the man’s, almost kissing him as he pulled back, but mostly sharing air between their mouths as he thrust in again, the friction and wet drag making his skin tingle, everywhere their bodies made contact.

The man’s legs tightened around his waist, crossed ankles digging into the base of his spine, and suddenly Credence’s cock was forced deeper. He was pulled in and held very close, as Mister Graves rolled his hips against him, kissing him with a fierce passion, one hand braced behind his neck, and the other digging into the side of his waist.

Credence felt the man’s cock pulsing as it was trapped between their bodies, spurting onto his chest, and he was powerless to resist the tug of his own orgasm, the feedback loop of pleasure endlessly echoing delicious aftershocks for a full several minutes. 

Credence laid down atop the man’s chest until his body stopped shaking, and dimly noticed that magic was cleaning him, as he was gently nudged back and set over onto his side, he panted for breath. “That was…”

“...Something else.”

 

“Darlings, I hope you’re hungry after that workout. I’ve got Chinese.”

Credence almost fell out of the bed at the sound of another voice, and Mister Graves petted over his neck soothingly, fingers stroking his hair, damp with sweat, off of his forehead.

“Great, thank you Theseus. That will be all.”

“Okay lovebirds don’t let me disturb you.” Theseus was grinning, Credence just knew it.

“Too late.” Mister Graves mumbled at Credence’s side, and he couldn’t fight a smile.

“You really love him too, don’t you?”

Mister Graves hummed, as if lost in thought, before kissing his cheek,

“If it would be possible to bend and break the rules about soulmates, Theseus would be the one to make someone do it.”

Credence wasn’t sure what to say to that, but his stomach growled, answering the question of what was next, easily enough.

  
  
  


**END**

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> sorry again.  
> also thank jesus nano is over, amiright?


End file.
